Spiritual Bond
by Tsuki-no-Kurokage
Summary: AU A serial killer targeting shinigami in the human world makes his appearance and catches the attention of Ichigo, who is about to learn that death does not necessarily mean the end...the hard way. Character death, implied IchiHitsu.
1. Prologue

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**Spiritual Bond 00**

**Prologue**

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_The air was dripping with the blood of silence; the atmosphere was thick, and full of it. Mushroom-like smoke traveled up to the height of the darkened heavens, and the rest of the smoke began spreading out evenly. The steady but deadly glow of the cursed object illuminated the blackness as the skies began speaking in the language of thunder and watching the events below unfold with the eyes of lightning._

_In the midst of the choking smoke, there was a spike of hair with a color so glaring that it was hard to miss it. The sharp angular face was agonized and twisted, brows furrowed with utter seriousness and teeth biting the lower lip to hold back the words of colorful vulgarities that were ready to burst out at any moment. The black blade of death stuck through the chest of the enemy at hand, puffs of mist escaping his lips rapidly and the crimson fluid staining the ice below._

_Kurosaki Ichigo growled._

"_Bloody jackass, go to hell." With a twist, the blade wrenched the rogue shinigami's organs; the red river trickled down his limbs, forming a pool around his feet. The substitute narrowed his eyes to slits; darkened blade of the moon sucking the blood and spitting it to the earth, and yet, not a single stain remained. He turned, gluing the vacant brown orbs to the growing pool of blood which gave a sickening squelch from behind him. "You deserve it."_

…And so do I.


	2. Peace of War

_...Finally. Finally I get this posting. No crap this has been a roller coaster ride for me throughout the whole of last year; it practically glued itself to my brain and sent me one hell of a writer's block that was so bad I had to re-write the whole thing. I hope this 'improved' version of Spiritual Bond will last and be able to satisfy you, because I'm not exactly very satisfied with myself now...for some odd reason._

_My writing style has changed drastically, as you might have noticed. As this chapter was written about four to five months ago, it was written in the style back then. When you notice a detrimental change one or two chapters later, it's due to this reason. Yeah, just a short warning._

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**Spiritual Bond 01**

**Peace of War**

* * *

"More! More! Dammit, I want more!"

The near traumatized staff bowed with a shaky and inaudible reply of '_hai_' and spun around, tilting the mouth of the jar at the smooth edge of the tiny porcelain bowl. Heavenly sake filled the bowl to the brim before the bartender timidly handed the bald third seat his sake from quite a distance away. Madarame Ikkaku grabbed the bowl with his hand, drops of the Japanese wine dripping over the edge and wetting the counter, forming a small puddle of the sacred drink. Bringing the bowl to his lips, he tilted his head back and allowed the liquid to travel down his throat, warming his insides.

A contented and sober sigh escaped his lips as he leaned back, continuously rocking himself with a foot on the edge of the counter. Sharp eyes kept rolling to his right as if he were wishing for someone to step out of the door and entering the bar, but that seemed to have been like that for the past two hours he had been there. His drinking buddies paid no mind to his actions and carried on drinking, but he knew that they were waiting for one last person invited to the drinking party to arrive.

A soft swish of cloth came from the doorway and turning heads with a few blushing faces turned to look. The strawberry blonde with the heavenly landforms staggered in, feet crossing each other as she walked, and her loose shihakushou torso revealing more of the valleys on her chest – well, more than usual. Her drinking buddies seemed to have noticed and the ones that were red made slightly twisted faces at the sight. She blinked out of the daze which she didn't know she had fallen into and slowly tightened her shihakushou before lazily making her way to a vacant seat.

"Just gimme the strongest booze you got here; I really need it." The bartender bowed once her order was taken and went down to work at once. The blond woman's hand traveled up to the back of her neck and gave it a small massage. "…Hey, guys? Sorry I came in late. Had to help do the paperwork."

If it had been any other ordinary day, they'd be laughing their heads off and accuse her of lying, but they were certainly not in the mood to do so.

"Nah. Don't worry about it," the red pineapple assured before bringing the mouth of the sake jar to his lips and gulping a mouthful of the warm, pleasant wine. Wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shihakushou, he turned to face her. "…So, how is he?"

Before, she would normally pick from the following answers: he's fine; he's working harder than ever; arigatou for your concern ne, but taichou doesn't want people to know how he is; he's burying himself with paperwork. Those were answers that truly came from her mind; her captain was really doing all of that, really. He had been working himself to hell so that he would become stronger, in both mind and soul, and his efforts were, dare she say it, paying off even though he was stuck with mastering bankai, and not to mention that he pretty much drinks sake every day, trying to get over the sorrow of the past. He didn't care if he was underage for that sort of thing; he just needed some time alone.

But, it is no longer 'before' now.

Matsumoto Rangiku stared into Renji's determinedly concerned eyes, pursing her lips as she licked the sake off, and replied:

"I don't know."

* * *

Step by step, he made his way up the hill. With such silence hung in the air, all he could hear was the shuffling of his feet as he inched his way closer towards his destination. The skies above were dull and gloomy, but they couldn't make him more depressed than he already was. Tightening his grip on the stalks of the bouquet, he moved faster.

Soon the winds began howling, and lightning flashed across the skies. The words of thunder had been spoken, but they weren't comparable to his inner storm. Yet, he felt nothing. The load of the world was still hanging on from his heart, threatening to tear it apart, but he thought nothing. All he wanted to do was to move on.

At last he arrived, and went on his knees in front of the _takka_ which once stood proudly with the blade at the top. It had now become nothing but mere twigs and wooden debris, charred and chopped without mercy. The blade was said to have held more power than he could ever wield, but it had now become mere fragments, scattered across the lands and completely powerless independently. No one ever found the need to bother finding the pieces again.

Placing the bouquet of daffodils and lilies on the ice which refused to melt, Kurosaki Ichigo bowed with the utmost respect and glumness. Memories of caressing the body he had lost flooded his mind and lingered on like the blazing flame of life within him. Gone were the days when he would have his childish banters with the white-haired other; the former would insist on calling him by his first name, and the latter would retort and ignore him with a pout that made the former's heart run wild. Now all that was left of him was the plain of never-melting ice that still covered most of the Soukyoku Hill, pure…and clean.

Just like the young Hitsugaya Toushirou was…

No, what was he thinking? All that had been occupying his mind as of late, no, for the past one month was this tuft of white hair, smooth as silk as he could remember it; almost torn apart from the attack, lying unconscious in the warm glow of Inoue's Souten Kisshun, were soiled, bloody spikes in place of the snow white he was used to seeing. Ichigo would've had completely forgotten about tending to Rukia if not for Renji offering to carry her for him so that he could go to check on the captain on the two's behalf. Just nice that Inoue finished her healing, while the orange-haired shinigami offered to do the bandages for her and told her to get some rest before tending to Rukia. His classmate could only oblige, with the exception that she began her healing straight away.

Dragging along the trail of the white cloth, he circled it where the injuries centred; round about the bandage went, encasing the young captain's chest with firm yet seemingly comfortable bandaging. It gave him roughly ten minutes to not only do the finishing touches, but also to stare at how peaceful - yet pained - Toushirou looked when he was asleep. Unconscious, rather, but it was almost the same in Ichigo's dictionary. And then, he couldn't help it. He stroked that hair, he picked at all the dirt particles and tossed them aside, asking for a wet towel so that he could dampen the hair and wash the dried blood away. It wasn't much, but at least he could help maintain the purity of the silk.

It didn't take long, to his surprise, for Toushirou to regain consciousness as soon as the water came into contact with his hair. Those sparkling, beautiful - did he just think of the white-haired captain as beautiful? - emeralds he had for eyes were staring into his, clouded over by what seemed to be confusion, but being the genius he was he immediately knew what was going on and pushed the towel away, demanding to know what the hell he was doing in Kurosaki's lap. The doctor's son couldn't say anything, too mesmerized by the piercing green orbs. And the next thing he knew, he had to give a good reason why Toushirou was wrapped up like a mummy. He blamed his poor bandaging skills.

Ichigo blinked; now what **was **he thinking, really? It wasn't like they were that close or anything...they only met right before Ichigo left Soul Society, the time when Rukia was saved from execution. They barely had any connection with each other, aside from the fact that he distinctively liked calling Toushirou Toushirou. The next time they met, it was when the Arrancar came along. Sure, their relationship was taken into the next step, which was of comrades in battle and not any more, but that was that. He couldn't put a finger on when exactly did the odd feelings begin to swirl about in his chest whenever he landed his eyes on that little shrimp of a captain. It was before the whole Ouin thing, and that was all he knew.

But here he was, his feelings all messed up like shit, and it just had to be before Toushirou's grave. What an embarrassment in front of his 'superior'...

"Oi, Ichigo!"

Staying in his kneeling posture, the orange-haired captain of the Tenth Division tilted his head, looking at the darkened heavens as if hoping for his white-haired angel to descend even though he would never see him ever again. "Yeah, Renji?" he asked, trying to loosen up the tense atmosphere that was forever revolving the Soukyoku Hill. "You looking for me?"

"Well, duh," replied the red-haired pineapple while tugging at his haori uncomfortably. This is worse than tying that stupid armband when I was fukutaichou, how can Kuchiki-taichou put up with this, Ichigo head Renji mutter to himself, or so he thought, and raised an eyebrow when he turned to face his sparring buddy. "You do realise that we have a meeting in five minutes... Didn't you get the message from the hell butterfly or something?"

"Obviously not," the orange strawberry retorted, rising from his crouch and straightening his own haori. "Geez...why does this always happen to me? Last time a sea of hollows came rampaging in Soul Society, I didn't even know a damn thing until I found one eating my paperwork."

Renji smirked. "Who asked you to suck at sensing reiatsu anyway? And at any rate, we have to go now," he added quickly. "This is our first time going to a meeting...I mean, ever since that happened, the soutaichou has been trying his best to find suitable people for taking up the role as captains and we were just so unlucky to be picked, huh? And we were never asked to attend any of the meetings until today...I sort of wonder why."

The clouds gathered, a ray of light flashing across the sky as quick as a cheetah could run from a poacher. Ichigo rubbed the back of his tingling neck, wiping his forehead from the beads of water trickling down. "I think it's best we don't know a single thing, Renji. I don't wanna know what's going on in that old bastard's head anyway, not after what happened." And for the first time while being in a conversation with a fellow captain, Renji did not say a thing to follow.

* * *

"_Toushirou! Toushirou! Oi, pull yourself together… Speak to me! Toushirou!"_

_The black coated adolescent slid across the ice, stretching out his arm to grab the falling fugitive by the waist, pulling him back up on his feet before settling down on the cool surface. He shook the limp body in his grasp, calling for the name of the boy, but received no reply. How did it come to this, he wondered. After all, he was just fine a minute ago, and the next he looked like he was going to pass out anytime soon, to which he almost fell off the cliff if not for the alertness of a certain shinigami substitute known was Kurosaki Ichigo._

_But no, it wasn't because he saw him fall; it was because he sensed him. And someone, otherwise known as the jackass who involved Toushirou in this mess, only told him 'to be careful lest his newfound friend – he added with a tinge of fury – would end his life in a manner no one would like' and proceeded on to pointing in the direction where Toushirou was heading: soaring in the sky, about to land on the edge of the hill before his eyes suddenly clammed up and his bankai, shattering into particles of ice. Ichigo couldn't care less about the purple-haired jerk and leapt for the foot. He missed terribly, but managed to grab the waist – it would suffice – and reel him in before he really made a nasty fall._

_The only thing that was bothering him before, and even until now, was that Toushirou still wasn't responding to his calls._

"…ou! Kurosaki-taichou!"

Ichigo blinked out of his daze – he hadn't realized he had begun daydreaming since he left Soukyoku Hill just a few minutes ago – and turned towards the source of the call; Yamamoto looked at him sternly in the eye, brows furrowing deeply and grip on his wooden staff tightening noticeably. "I understand that this is the first time you are attending a captain's meeting, and therefore do not know the seriousness of calling all of the division heads to gather in one place. However, you should be able to know by now that meetings are not a time where you can just dawdle off into your own world and not participating at all! The solemnity of the gathering of taichous is not to be taken lightly; I hope that has gotten in your head."

Sticking out his lower lip slightly, Ichigo gave an unnoticeable roll of his eyes and glued his eyes to the floor instead. It wasn't like he intended to daydream, so why the hell was the old man shouting at him anyway? And besides, he didn't even notice that the meeting had started; all who were there when he arrived had been the old soutaichou overlooking all of the taichous to see if everyone, with the exception of the missing spots of the 3rd and 9th Divisions, was present at the meeting, but he certainly didn't remember the meeting being commenced.

From across the meeting hall, Renji mouthed a few words to the ignorant Kurosaki-taichou, but he was unable to decipher what message it was that his fellow red-spiked friend was trying to bring across. Said newly appointed captain of the 5th Division almost slapped himself on the forehead but resisted the urge while being in the presence of the rest of the captains, especially the head captain's. He, too, like Ichigo was experiencing such a solemn captain's meeting for the first time in his life as a shinigami; after all, it wasn't like he wanted to be a captain in the first place. He knew Ichigo felt the same way, but in the end he just went along with it. For what reason, no one could tell, because Ichigo didn't want to talk about it.

It was...understandable, to a point. Being in the shadow of the many captains who were once leading the Tenth Division, Ichigo must feel inferior even if it was the slightest of doubts. It was much harder for him than for Renji to be appointed captain, albeit it was only for temporary relief for the large-scale squads as well as part of the test to see if they had the capabilities to serve others and contribute to protecting Soul Society, but even so it was like their appointment had been made official. Hinamori took it as badly as anyone could expect her to, while Matsumoto reacted in the complete opposite way. Everyone knew, though, in her eyes there could only be one captain who was just right to give the commands for the Tenth Division; Ichigo knew. That's why it hurt.

"As I have mentioned earlier," Yamamoto's voice shook everyone out of their various chains of thoughts, if they had been indulging in them for the past moment. "Aizen is moving quicker than we have anticipated; it will not be much longer before he launches his attack. It is most likely he will strike no later than next week. The time is unfortunately ripe, and we are still in the midst of reconstruction of the damages caused by the previous battle we, as the Gotei 13, have faced. While we have defeated the man who was responsible for that matter, we have also suffered a loss on our part."

Ichigo's fingers curled into a ball; here it comes, the moment at which he was going to hate remembering for the next few months. Bad enough for his nine-year-old self, and now, again...again he was going to bear the same guilt on his shoulders. He braced himself as Yamamoto opened his mouth to speak. "Hitsugaya Toushirou, the previous captain of the Tenth Division, had fought gallantly on the battle field and given his life to protecting Soul Society from the prominent threat known as Kusaka Soujirou. While he is to be commended, it was also wrong of him to keep this matter under wraps and unsheathe his blade before his subordinates, causing them harm only because he wanted to settle his own personal matters."

The current captains, especially the Tenth, couldn't help but agree.

_"...It's none of your business."_

What a pain it had been, he remembered...Toushirou was just too stubborn for his own good. Even though he was injured, he still tried to leave on his own, to the point where he left thinking that Ichigo wasn't aware. And then, those two girls showed up. That was when everything finally tumbled. That was when he was thrust into the arms of confusion. That was when he realised one thing: Hitsugaya Toushirou, wielder of the most powerful ice and snow type of the whole Soul Society, was just like the ice which flowed in his veins. He, like ice, could melt.

As if noticing that Kurosaki-taichou was once again trapped by his own thoughts, Yamamoto continued with the main topic of the meeting, "We have lost a total of four captains; Soul Society has never faced a crisis like this ever since the exile of past captains and lieutenants when the unthinkable had happened. And with Aizen planning for his next attack, we cannot leave the divisions the way they are, therefore I am officially promoting former fukutaichou of 6th Division, Abarai Renji, to _Goban tai taichou_, and _shinigami daikou, _Kurosaki Ichigo, to _Juuban tai taichou_.

"I allow this only for one reason," he quickly added to prevent any possible uproar. "Those who have the potential of attaining bankai are few from this many souls, let alone being able to master bankai. The two I have promoted have not only attained bankai, but have also managed to master them as well. We cannot afford to lose anyone to the enemy anymore; Soul Society needs every spiritual being capable of fighting in order to protect it from the threat of Aizen. We must--"

"E-Excuse us for the intrusion, soutaichou!" came a muffled voice from behind the doors. As they opened, a burly figure was on his right knee, head kept low. Beside him was someone of slimmer stature, his identity masked by the black uniform he donned. Soifon narrowed her eyes slightly; for Oomaeda and another of their subordinates to come all the way here from a squad patrol...moreover, that subordinate, she could recognise, was one of the higher seated officers of one of the patrol squads. Ooemada overlooked all squads, and he would do the report, but for them to come personally...

Come to think about it, there was something strange about the atmosphere earlier on, but perhaps it had been too small for all of them to notice. Soifon had realised that the soutaichou quickened his pace when he spoke earlier, while a few of them seemed shiftier than usual, particularly that monster, Zaraki-taichou. Something good again, she figured. But when it was something good, it was usually something bad in return.

"We have sensed an unusual change in the reiatsu level and went to inspect the situation. However, we could find nothing that could have brought about that sudden change," explained the subordinate on behalf of his squad. "Therefore, I went to Oomaeda-fukutaichou to seek consent to send men to the real world to investigate, but the senkaimon...won't open."

Soifon resisted the urge to demand the reason, scoffing under her breath while folding her arms. With the exception of Yamamoto and Byakuya, the remaining captains instantly turned to face the two representatives of the Secret Ops, some with widened eyes. For the senkaimon not to open, then the Kidou Shuu... While it was true that not many knew what the Kidou Shuu members did, everyone knew they were responsible for managing the gateway to the human world.

And if the senkaimon did not open, the worst case scenario would've had been that the Kidou Shuu had met with an accident of some sort. But none of them had received any report concerning that; what was worrying for some of the captains was that a handful of their subordinates were on missions to the human world, and if the senkaimon could not be opened from Soul Society, there was no other alternative for the shinigami deployed to the other side to return to Soul Society safely without the aid of the gate. Even if the previous Twelfth Division captain were to open it from the human world, it would serve no purpose.

Ukitake sucked in a mouthful of air; he clenched his fist, restraining himself from hitting against his chest. He stole a glance at the stoic captain whose eyes were closed throughout the meeting, mentally hoping that the inability for the senkaimon to open would not last for too long, no, knowing that it would not last long at all. Sensei looked like he had something up on his sleeve again; maybe there was another way for the shinigami to return after all. Kyouraku only tipped his hat in response, smiling beneath the shade provided.

"But...that's not it," the larger of the two continued, keeping his head low. "A representative from the 12th Division told us that they've picked up a strange reiatsu occurrence in the real world; it's not only strong...it's able to mask itself from a shinigami's senses, as well as the radar installed in the phones we have provided for those who are currently in the human world at present."

"So the radar could pick up no more than something other than a regular fluctuation in the reiatsu levels?" the head of the Bureau of Science and Technology asked, his voice dripping with disappointment. When Oomaeda gave a nod, Kurotsuchi immediately slammed his palm against his forehead. "Nemu, that bumbling idiot...I thought I told her to install the latest system into all of our available radars, and she did nothing!" No one paid him any heed.

"But there was also something else he said," the masked subordinate brought up, but still keeping his eyes glued to the floor. "Some of the shinigami who called in to say they have sensed a peculiar reiatsu...all died a few minutes after the call ended."

Ukitake's eyes widened further; he battled his coughs, bringing up his open palm to his mouth. He couldn't help it any longer; his chest was aching, and his throat, gurgling down the blood just for the time being. But when the bile mixed with it, it was when he knew he was at his limits. Unohana quickly stopped by his side, bringing him to a corner of the room while trying to clean him up with the extra cloths she supplied herself with, just in case anything similar happened while she was present.

Kyouraku mouthed an 'are you ok, Juu-chan?' at the only white-haired taichou of the remaining Gotei 13, to which Ukitake mouthed back a thank you and 'I am fine'. For now, he added mentally. There was no telling when the fits were going to much worse than he anticipated. Blood stained parts of his haori, but he left it at that, deciding that he could deal with it later before his third seats noticed.

As for the urgent matter at hand, he wouldn't say he wasn't shocked, at the least. It was more like something that was of the unexpected. A strange reiatsu that could cloud a shinigami of his senses; then the shinigami would naturally check the phone's radar for a lock on any particular spikes in the nearby areas. What he would find was nothing peculiar shown on the radar, but as shinigami, they could not shrug anything like that off so easily, but before they could even think about investigating the matter themselves, they were ultimately silenced, Ukitake reckoned, like how key witnesses were normally killed off.

The question was, why was the murderer targeting those shinigami in the real world? No, before that, why would he wait for his victims to first inform the Twelfth Division for the reiatsu fluctuation before silencing them? Wouldn't that only arouse suspicion from the 12th Division members who were keeping a close eye; they would notice how the shinigami's reiatsu suddenly disappeared from radar, make emergency calls via the phones given to them, only to receive static, or nothing at all. If anything - and no, Ukitake was not intending to help this killer at large - shouldn't the murderer kill them before they could even think about making the call?

Like human cases, spiritual murders had their own loopholes, especially if it was someone or some_thing_ with the ability to wield large-scale reiatsu. Or at least, an unusual kind of reiatsu that had a special feature of getting even a shinigami's senses messed up. As long as they could track this reiatsu, as well as investigate thoroughly, the case would come to a close sooner than if not done otherwise, wasn't that right?

Yamamoto's frown was further etched onto his wrinkles and scars; he was going to have to talk about Aizen as soon as he decided on what to do for this situation. "Do you have the list of those who have died?"

"No. We were only able to get a list of those who are still alive, but the numbers aren't too good."

A few captains stiffened at the report. Things certainly did not look at their best nowadays; first, the betrayal of three captains, then the discovery of Aizen's plot, the invasion of several people into Hueco Mundo, the matter with the Ouin, and now...this? Was the fountain of fate not tired of spouting its waters of magic? Was it to reign forever, holding Soul Society's future in it? One could not afford to be too sloppy. If their men sent to the real world were doomed before fate's waters, and if the senkaimon were never to open again, then no one would be able to enter the world of the living to finish the hollows that were wrecking havoc there.

The eldest of the captains gave the nod of approval to name the ones remaining; the second-in-command of the Second Division bit his lower lip, looking pensive for a moment, but spoke nonetheless. "We have Kurayami-fukutaichou of the Sixth Division who has been sent there on Kuchiki-taichou's orders...or so Kurayami-fukutaichou says." Byakuya made no response. "Along with her were a few unranked officers, but so far there have not been any casualties from the Sixth Division. However, one of the Seventh Division's seated officers could not be reached – we believe that he is the Nineteenth Seat – but his reiatsu can still be felt. The rest there have...none of their reiatsu felt anymore."

Komamura frowned; amongst the shinigami from his division were his Eighteenth and Twentieth seats. For the other to survive, he must be fortunate. Oomaeda, on the other hand, continued with the report, "The Eighth and Ninth Divisions did not send any shinigami to the real world. However, the Tenth Division has...suffered the most out of the thirteen divisions. Out of the eleven shinigami there, only one shinigami's reiatsu can still be felt, and she has been informed not to alert anyone of any particular reiatsu which she has not sensed so far yet." Ichigo almost cursed aloud, if not for the fact that he was undeniably dazed from a matter weighing on his mind.

What good was he as taichou if he could not even protect his own subordinates from danger? The eleven shinigami might not have been ranked, but they were still part of the Tenth Division. With them, they had gone through all of the training, the experiences, and remained loyal to their division. Rangiku-san once told him, ever since their previous captain met with an unfortunate accident, just like the ritual of the Tenth Division captains, not one of their shinigami left them. And it was when Toushirou took over, did more and more academy graduates request to be accepted into the Tenth Division. If this just had to happen, then how could he call himself someone who had the capability to hold the title of taichou?

_"I do understand for a fact, Kurosaki, that your fighting abilities surpass that of an average lieutenant's. You have achieved bankai, your zanjutsu is highly commendable, but you need work on your kidou. I'm sure hakudo is not much of a problem for a gangster idiot like you. But it wouldn't be long before Yamamoto-soutaichou decides on the next batch of captains and consider you as a candidate." The white-haired prodigy gave him a soft grip on the shoulder as if asking him to loosen up, and turned away. "Personally...I don't think you're up to the task yet."_

"The Eleventh Division and Twelfth Division did not send dispatch anyone from their squads to the real world either," the slimmer continued from where his lieutenant had left off. "But, we do have one from the Thirteenth Division. She is the only one sent from the Thirteenth Division and has not yet made contact with the Twelfth about any particular reiatsu whatsoever. However, they are beginning to find some similar traces that are surrounding her area, therefore with all due respect, sir, we request that we find a way to send backup to the living world as soon as possible. Her phone can't be reached, and the reiatsu in her surroundings is rising. If we do not do something, sir, Kuchiki Rukia will..."

Ichigo and Renji instantly clenched their fists at the name aforementioned. Byakuya merely opened his eyes for the first time throughout the entire meeting. Bringing Aizen to justice would, unfortunately, have to wait at Fate's door as of the moment.

* * *

The smooth, faint glow of the azure print on the forehead of the konpaku engulfed the once dim downtown alley as the soul thanked the shinigami for not sending him to hell before sinking into the earth and appearing in the form of the black swallowtail butterfly, fluttering its wings continuously and making its way to Rukongai.

The raven-haired girl sighed as she sheathed her zanpakutou and fished the shinigami phone out from underneath her shihakushou collar, unfolding the clamshell phone and checking the radar of the area. Violet eyes scanned the map on the screen, as if waiting for something unusual to show up on the radar. But nothing happened thereafter.

"That's odd…" Rukia mumbled to herself as she folded her phone. "I could've sworn I felt a fluctuating reiatsu around here earlier…"

To clarify her doubts, she checked the phone once more, making sure that it was in good working condition as she did so, but there was nothing suspicious that she could find. Then she paused. Perhaps her senses were wrong? That she thought she felt something when there was nothing?

But that wasn't possible…unless someone else's reiatsu was clouding her sense, like déjà vu. But there was still nothing. The only reiatsu she could feel was her own, with the exception of the reiatsu traces left behind during the soul burial process. Even so, she wasn't releasing her reiatsu at a high rate and the soul burial should have had nothing to do with it…

Exactly what was going on?


	3. Irrevocable Path to Demise

_There is an OC involved in this fic, but her role isn't too major, so don't be worried if an OC will be too glaring for anyone's likings. Trust me, I know how hard it is to even bring yourself to like one, let alone stand to see one appearing in every chapter all the time, so I won't do something like that._

* * *

**Spiritual Bond 02**

**Irrevocable Path to Demise**

* * *

The silence that penetrated the hall hung thick in the atmosphere. Even a single strike of Zaraki's asauchi wouldn't be enough to cut through it. The determined yet frail expression kept the silence going. It felt as though time had been frozen in place and the clock wasn't able to get itself fixed, to get itself back into its ticking state. Stares of shock and sorrow were exchanged, but no words were spoken; no, no words needed to be spoken. Until the one captain no one would expect to talk spoke in a cold, petrifying manner that could send unranked shinigami running to their doom.

Kuchiki Byakuya casted the old soutaichou an icy glance before looking away. The silence was soon broken. "...Is this your final decision, Yamamoto-soutaichou?"

It had taken another round of awkward silence before Yamamoto gave the very answer that provided the uproars a chance to arise. With a disapproving frown carved on his wrinkled face, the old soutaichou banged his staff against the ground, its impact paving way to the sound reverberating, and bellowed, "Silence! All of you!" As if he had pulled the zippers on their mouths closed, he continued in a much calmer tone, "I knew my decision would come as a shock to all of you, so it would be best if I explain now."

"...Fag the explanation," Ichigo whispered under his breath, gluing his narrowed eyes to the carpeted floor. _Whatever he says is the so-called law and he expects everyone to obey that law without any hesitation. He's no different from those jackasses of the Central 46. I don't even know why I bother staying on here when I can just go and save Rukia now before--_

Glancing up in the midst of his thoughts, cloudy chocolate brown eyes caught a pair of rubies glaring straight at him. Renji's mouth was forming some incomprehendable words, perhaps something along the lines of 'Shut up or else you'll get it' or 'Don't say it out loud, idiot'. Ichigo merely gave him a roll of the eyes as a response and returned to his gloomy state of staring at the ground again, leaving the red-haired captain no choice but to sigh and shrug it off, as reluctant as he was. What the taller actually meant to say was whether the both of them should go against the soutaichou's decision and leave the godforsaken place for Karakura Town to save Rukia, but since Ichigo was clearly not interested in saving her - Renji thought with a snarl - he should just forget about it and listen to what Seireitei's leader had to say.

With a burning flame within him, the red-haired captain of the Fifth truly desired to bust out of the meeting hall and head out for Rukia, but being more rational than Ichigo, he thought about the consequences. For one, Byakuya would give him one hell of a scolding for behaving in a manner such unlike that of a proper captain's on his first day of appointment, which would leave a terrible impression on his subordinates. Thinking deeper, he remembered a detail so easily left out; the senkaimon couldn't be opened anyway. Even if he wanted to go to the human world, he couldn't. He 'tch'-ed under his breath without realising that he had earned himself a slight glance from a certain stoic taichou, and fought against his feet which were practically dying to shunpo away. It wasn't to his advantage. Heck, it wasn't to anyone but the enemy's advantage.

Yamamoto coughed softly, his scarred fingers trailing along the outline of his zanpakutou disguised as the walking stick he always had by his side. It gained no attention whatsoever, which seemed to be what he wanted. All was silent in the hall; if he had to pick any time to explain matters, it would be right there and then. However, he found he could not form the right words to say. Blur sentences formed in his mind, bits and pieces of so many words piecing themselves together so slowly time seemed to move faster. The wielder of the most powerful fire-type zanpakutou felt his chest burn while he finally found the precise sentences he wanted to share with the taichous.

For the first time, regret and hesitation were plastered all over his wrinkled, haggard face.

He didn't know if anyone had noticed it or not. All he knew was that if he were to not speak a single word despite promising to give a proper explanation earlier on, most, if not, all of them would be able to predict whatever he intended to say. The old soutaichou's grip on his staff tightened slightly as he attempted to clear the haziness in his mind. "I will not permit anyone to go to rescue the remaining shinigami currently in the human world. This is due to the fact that we have to consider many of the conditions at the moment. First of all," he paused to resist a cough, hoping that no one, especially the apples of his eye, had realised it. "As we all know, the senkaimon cannot be opened. I believe the Twelfth Division's crew is conducting some research as to why it cannot and I will be awaiting the news. Until then, we have no other alternative to reach the human world, so we have to remain in Seireitei until the gate can be opened.

"We must also not forget that we need all the manpower in order to protect Soul Society. This is most likely Aizen's doing and if that is the case, he is attempting to distract and demoralise us, therefore we must not let him think that by doing rash things, he has succeeded in that aspect. His purpose in distracting us is to direct our attention away from him so that he can make use of this time to land a surprise attack on us. If I am to allow any of you to enter the real world at the present moment, it is a direct signal to Aizen that we are letting him attack us in our state of panic. That is unacceptable. By allowing that, we are surrendering and I will not tolerate any form of surrender to the traitor." At the differing tones in the wavering voice, Ukitake and Kyouraku blinked; something was amiss, and they could sense it. It might not be blatantly obvious to the others, but in their case, it was akin to telling them directly that there was another matter their sensei had in mind that he either missed out or simply did not wish to say. The raven-haired doctor of Seireitei could only narrow her eyes and let it slide at the present moment.

The ever so silent fox spirit folded his arms while across him, Byakuya had hundreds of various thoughts flashing in his mind. He appeared to be calm to the rest, but only Komamura could pick up the tense atmosphere surrounding the Sixth Division taichou which was similar to that of the type of aura the person he was grateful to was emanating. Golden eyes switching targets, the dog-like captain began to eye the young Tenth Division captain's actions. Like all of his predecessors, the many yet few shinigami who held the captaincy for the Tenth Division all shared one thing in common other than their stubbornness: the fact that they were younger than all of the other captains in the Gotei 13. And like all of his predecessors, he, too, seemed to be rather fidgety during his first meeting in the name of taichou of the Tenth. Of course, it was nothing but a bunch of rumours, but nevertheless the rumours were not proven wrong after all these years. It brought back some memorable experiences with the late Hitsugaya-taichou even though they hadn't many chances to know each other better.

However, Ichigo wasn't so simply 'fidgety'; he was itching, hoping, **dying** to get out of the meeting hall. He couldn't figure out why but his fingers were dancing around behind his back and fiddling with the bandage-like strands wrapped around Zangetsu as if attempting to kill time by untying them. At the same time, the _ossan_ was sending unclear messages to him, something along the lines of finding a way to get into Karakura Town, and his physical body as the orange-haired shinigami's blade began trembling. It seemed to have attracted some unneeded attention but Ichigo shrugged it off as an itchy back and pretended to scratch it until everyone diverted their attention away. _This ain't good at all... Orders or not, I have to save Rukia. We're wasting time...I wonder if Renji will come along with me._

Deliberately letting out a loud cough, Yamamoto spoke once again, shattering the invisible glass wall of silence which somehow constructed itself. "I understand that we do not have enough time on our hands to not only find out the reason why the senkaimon won't open but also to find a way to re-open it. Additionally, we must also send out back-up to the shinigami on patrolling duty after the aforementioned tasks are completed. Considering these, I believe we do not have sufficient time to save the shinigami dispatched to the human world. However, it would seem that Kurotsuchi-taichou wants to provide an alternate to this matter, so I would let Kurotsuchi-taichou explain to everyone now the plan he has in mind."

"Why, thank you, soutaichou." Zaraki nearly scoffed aloud at the tone of voice. The masked captain merely smirked to himself as he stepped out of the line of taichous and cleared his throat. "Well, however interesting this case may seem, the solution to this is, in all honesty, extremely blunt. Basically, I will force my subordinates to work quicker to find out another way to reach the human world. Before that, we have to ensure the safety of those still alive. This is how we'll go about it. The newly produced _jigoku-chou _are working perfectly and a fixed number will be sent to each and every division. If you wish to contact your subordinates, make use of the jigoku-chou available. You can remain in contact with those whose phones can't be reached." Before anyone could ask a question or two, Mayuri waved his index finger teasingly. "Not to worry, not to worry. As I said, these hell butterflies are newly produced. I have introduced many new features into them, one of which is a built-in radar similar to that of the phone we use. You can also use two simultaneously, one sent to your subordinates and one kept with you to remain in contact. It's as convenient as using the phone itself. I will teach everyone the proper methods later on.

"Now, we must trouble Kuchiki-taichou for a bit," he continued, casting his flashing golden eyes on the silent statue. "Apparently, he has sent his fukutaichou, and I must stress, his fukutaichou to the human world for some unknown reason I would like to discover as soon as possible. Since she is currently the only shinigami with the highest position there, I believe she has sufficient strength to endure my painful torture--ah, I beg your pardon. What I mean to say is, I believe that she is able to hold off for an hour or so and protect all of those shinigami on duty while my subordinates get on with the research. Thus I would like to request Kuchiki-taichou to test the new jigoku-chou now and remain in contact with Kurayami-fukutaichou to tell her of the present situation. That isn't very much to ask of you, is it, Kuchiki-taichou?"

Byakuya stared at the smiling, demented clown, trying as hard as possible to ignore the increasingly teasing tone in the masked captain's voice. "...No, it is not."

"Ah, excellent. I would also like to have a little chat with you later, if it isn't too much trouble," Mayuri digressed, his smirk growing. The nobleman made no gesture and simply closed his eyes once again. "It's nice to hear that. Anyway, yes, this is the plan. Unfortunately, if this doesn't work, I have to admit that I have no other plans in mind. Once the senkaimon is open, I'll let everyone know. Until then, wait patiently."

Ichigo and Renji clenched their fists. _Why can't it be now...!?_

* * *

Waving the jar around in his hand, the bald man watched his drinking buddies order and drink to their fill. Feeling a pinch, he, too, took a large loud slurp from the sake bottle and quietly called for the bartender to serve three more bottles before smashing his fist on the table, coins clattering and dancing to a halt. Bowing as he accepted the money, the sweaty bartender entered the storeroom to pick out the best sake for serving. While there wasn't anything left to fill his empty stomach, Ikkaku headed over to the spot where Matsumoto was introducing a game of some sort to the flushed Tetsuzaemon.

Apparently it was an intriguing game of flashing fingers in sets of five or ten or something along the lines. It appeared thoroughly lasting, at least for the next few hours or so, seeing that Renji was in no mood to come for a drink and the strawberry blonde and the bald-headed Third Seat knew exactly what was weighing so heavily in the red pineapple's mind. Without him around, drinking was no real fun, so might as well just kill time with some finger-games the drunk fukutaichou of the Tenth learned during her stays in the real world, no matter how pointless they were. What kept the wry smirk on Ikkaku's face was how the bespectacled drunkard seemed to lose every round with Matsumoto and drink a cup or two as punishment. The three bottles of fresh sake arrived as soon as Iba finished all of the wine meant for forfeit drinking. He snatched one right from the pale bartender and poured some into the petite cup, a few drops of sake overflowing, and drank it up before resuming the next round of the finger game.

Muttering some incoherent words under his hot breath, the Third Seat leapt over the table and lied down on the unoccupied mat, shifting about and drinking to his heart's content. Matsumoto and Iba paid him no heed, still flashing their fingers and snickering over the small mistakes they committed. Ikkaku, face flushing to a deeper shade of crimson than when fighting with every sip he took, turned to have his back facing the pair and slurped noisily from the sake jar. As misty has his mind was, he was absolutely certain about the fact that he was not in a state of drunkenness as serious as the other two were, despite the fact that Rangiku had higher tolerance for alcohol, and that he was the only one out of the threesome to remain his usual consciousness. At least he wasn't playing a ridiculous game and giggling like some little toddler.

Even when his good friend offered to let him take over from the game, Ikkaku bluntly refused to take part and resumed drinking. Surely they could find something else better to do, like heading out of the bar and actually doing some paperwork, for a start. Not that he encouraged work, especially since Zaraki supported the idea of having fun all day and not doing work, but looking at the current situation Seireitei was in, they could develop the habit of at least attempting to offer some help to their taichous like what fukutaichous were supposed to do. Considering all factors, it would appear that Renji was in no good mood to even drink because of that very situation. Either that, or he simply didn't want to hang around them, perhaps a little taken aback by all of the possibilities that Rangiku-san might come up with while in a drunken state of mind.

On the contrary, Matsumoto was perfectly aware of her surroundings. Her vision did not blur as greatly as Tetsuzaemon's did - he mistook the number five for ten once too many - and, as much as she hated to say it, all of her memories of doing things while being so-called drunk could still be retained. Minutes after her victory, she stole a glance at Ikkaku's back, taking a sip or two from her sake bottle while she was at it. Licking her lips like a cat when it spots its best prey, she walked over to the pachinko ball head and poked him in the shoulder, giving him a soft smile as he looked up with a raised eyebrow and a frown.

"Hey, what's up? You seem a little grouchy."

"...Tch."

Ikkaku turned away and took another large gulp. He sat up straight and leaned against the wall, resting an elbow on his kneecap. Sighing, the strawberry blonde settled down next to him, drinking a bit more of her sake. Iba zoned out not long after, lying on his back with his chest exposed and his fingers subconsciously trailing up to scratch it. It wasn't very long after that short period of complete silence until Matsumoto broke it. "There's been this rumour going around, Ikkaku. Have you heard about it yet?" The other merely gave a scoff before he finished his sake and hauled for another. Feigning ignorance to his gruff, ruffian-like behaviour, she sipped a bit more sake and, simultaneously, asked the trembling bartender to send in five more bottles on top of the two Ikkaku ordered. "You know, if you've already heard it, you don't need to act as if you don't know anything," she spoke, giving a small wink.

He spoke of nothing until the bartender came with their sake and received his tips. Bowing, he turned to leave them alone, hoping that they would not order any more drinks than they already had. It was only when Ikkaku was halfway through his next sake jar did he decide to speak up and crush the sound of silence in the room. "I wonder who the hell let the cat outta the bag. Whoever it is, I'm going to fuckin' kick his ass when I see him."

"Oh? How can you be so sure it was a boy who did it? What would you do if it was a pretty girl like me?"

Glaring at the puffy, rosy cheeks and the mischievous grin plastered on her face, Ikkaku growled under his breath. "It was you?" Resisting the urge to smash one of his empty sake bottles on the wall, his grip on the half-empty jar tightened. Hungrily, he rushed down all that was remaining and sent it hurling towards the ground by rolling it across the floor with a ferocious heave. "I thought you promised. Who'd you tell? Ichigo?"

Nodding, Matsumoto turned her eyes away from the tomato red face. "What can I say? He was curious. He already had the idea in the first place, so I thought there wasn't any harm in telling him. Just think about, Ikkaku. Do you honestly think I'd be so stupid to spread the word all over Seireitei? No, wait, scratch that. Even if I did tell my taichou about it, so what? He respects you, and I mean your rights and privacy. Ichigo-kun isn't the kind who would shout out your secret to the world, you know. He doesn't want you chasing after his ass until he becomes a real shinigami." Glancing at the expression Ikkaku was giving her, she snorted. "Heyyy...don't you give me that look. Fine, I told taichou, but I swear I only told him and no one else. So if you really want to know who the culprit is, sad to say, you're on your own."

The Third Seat made no reply and carried on drinking, the words ringing in his mind like a cassette tape recorder on repeat.

As minutes to midnight ticked by, the threesome was asked to return to their respective divisions before the bar closed for business hours earlier than the usual closing time. Not wanting Matsumoto to take care of Tetsuzaemon all on her own, Ikkaku reluctantly took over and supported the unconscious lieutenant of the Seventh over his shoulders. The pale moonlight dawned upon the area they approached, allowing them a way to see past the darkness of the night. Their feet dragged along the sand and dust, knocking pint-sized pebbles into each other and ringing up a tiny but irksome melody.

Too many a time did Iba attempt to throw up and the only conscious ones around tried various ways and methods to stop him from doing so. The only one proved effective had been to stuff the opening of an empty jar into his mouth that made him appear like an infant sucking on his pacifier. Thankfully, Matsumoto found no need to have an emergency bottle on standby as they reached the Seventh Division headquarters sooner than they had expected. Shinigami on duty rushed to help their moaning fukutaichou, leaving the flushed pair consisting of a lieutenant and a Third Seat to return to their own respective divisions as well. Unfortunately for them, their divisions' barracks were coincidentally near each other and they were left with no other choice but to walk each other back.

However deafening the silence was, neither knew what to say to break it through. Rangiku, though she did not feel entirely guilty, was trying to be careful with her next choice of words lest she hurt the bald fighter's pride again. _Maybe I should just ask him straight. It's better than walking around in silence_ was the first thought that popped up in her head.

"...So, Ikkaku. It's like this. I've always been wondering, when did you get your bankai anyway? Has it been a long time?"

Grumpily, the other party shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe. Don't exactly remember when. Guess it just happened."

"I see. Why didn't you tell anyone about it then?"

The first thing Ikkaku did in response was slap his forehead with an open palm, shaking his head vigorously. He held back a snarl and mumbled a few words under his sake breath. "Everyone doesn't get it. Well, if you wanna know, then I'll tell you straight. I don't want to leave my division and join another as their captain. It doesn't suit me! The reason I joined the Eleventh Division was so that if I had to die as a shinigami, I'd die as a shinigami under Zaraki-taichou. That's all, nothing else, get it?" Shaking again, he groaned and waved his free hand. "Look, can we just talk about something else?"

_Hmph, must've hit a sour spot. What a grouch. _"Since you insist," she solemnly replied, frowning slightly. "I'll tell you something. You know that new fukutaichou the Sixth Division got? She's not one person to be trifled with. She doesn't drink, she doesn't play, she doesn't smile. On top of it, she hates fighting. The thing is, I heard she graduated from the Shin'ou Reijutsu In in less than two years."

"Hunh? Someone like that can be a fukutaichou? She must be one hell of a fighter, even if she doesn't like it," Ikkaku commented with a bloodthirsty smirk unlike that of his captain's. "Hey, she's one of those shinigami trapped in the real world, ain't that right? From that announcement earlier on, I'm guessing the captains are trying to get her to protect the remaining few shinigami until the senkaimon can open. I wonder what the hell's going on up there..."

"You and me both."

* * *

Heaving an annoyed sigh, the raven-haired shinigami shunpoed from rooftop to rooftop, slaying all hollows in sight and sending all konpaku to Soul Society before they could be labelled as a hollow's next prey. Reaching for her phone, Rukia pressed a few buttons before the screen showed the outline of Karakura Town. She frowned at the figures displayed, and tapped some more buttons. The beeping of the phone kept her distracted as she turned back and headed towards the alley she left earlier on. The sick, cloudy feeling in the gut refused to leave no matter how hard she tried to ignore it; there was no mistake in her senses. A reiatsu, foreign and larger than her own, was the cause of the endless parade of hollows terrorising the lost, wandering souls in the town. It was at a flash of the moment whereby she sensed it in the dark, lonely alley. The first destination she arrived at when she came to Karakura Town; the first hollow she purified and the first soul burial she performed for the mission had been at that very spot.

To her expectation, a pile of ice blue dust which laid at the area where the soul burial was performed had been emanating a strange, unidentifiable reiatsu that had been twisting her insides and clouding her senses. Curiosity peaking, Rukia approached it, the stabbing pain and nausea growing with every step. She dialled the number to Seireitei and brought the phone to her ears. All that could be heard was static until a swift hand knocked the phone away from her. The younger Kuchiki turned, her hand on the hilt of Sode no Shirayuki, only to find an unsheathed blade pointing right at the tip of her nose where crimson droplets fell and stained the snow.

* * *

_"Taichou? Is that you?"_ a lazy voice came over the hell butterfly, with Kurotsuchi gleaming at the success of the improvement made in the insect-like mechanisms. All of the respective leaders of the Gotei 13 watched inquisitively, a few with a tinge of anxiety. Byakuya, paying no heed to the unnecessary attention, merely 'hmm'ed over the jigoku-chou. _"Ah, I get it, you must be worried about Rukia-chan. Don't worry about it, taichou. I can sense her fine, and it seems to me that there's no big fluctuation or anything like that." _Ichigo, Renji and Ukitake mentally heaved sighs of relief. The raven-haired noble still had his eyes shut, and his mouth was simply refusing to open to form any words other than 'hmm'. Letting the jigoku-chou flap its wings and hover in the air, he let his arm rest by his side.

Mayuri was in the midst of boasting about his capabilities when the jigoku-chou halted its movements and a deafening screech brought a reverberating sensation in everyone's ears. "O-oi, what's wrong!?" Renji couldn't help exclaiming, his heart leaping to his throat and beads of sweat trickling down his forehead.

_"I...I don't know," _Kurayami groaned. _"It's just that...I've suddenly lost track of Rukia-chan's reiatsu. There's this weird, stronger reiatsu blocking me from sensing her--taichou, I-I...I honestly don't know what's going on...!"_

"...Calm down, Kurayami-fukutaichou, and ease your pace," Byakuya replied, hiding his raging emotions under the cold, icy mask he normally wore. "Where is the reiatsu mostly coming from?"

_"It's......it's from an alley. It's where I lost Rukia-chan's trail."_

* * *

Sipping the luxuriously chilling air of the winter night, the cloaked figure leapt from branch to branch, his bare feet and open palms embracing the snow which fell upon the naked trees. Eyes shielded by the darkness provided by the hood over his face and the simple, yet complex, porcelain mask too much like that of a hollow's, he remained in the comfort of the many branches' shadows, keeping a close bird's eye view at the alley down below. Flakes of snow drifted from the darkened heavens to the mellow, gloomy land, yet they stayed in their pure, crystalline state, dancing around the masked shadow before quickly descending to the ground as if bowing to him. His indifference towards the scene kept behind that hollow-like mask, he continued staring, and staring.

It was then the dry smirk began to form at the edges of his lips upon noticing an incoming party's reiatsu. Small, frail, and weak, just like any other particular shinigami. Of course, that was merely the result of keeping the reiatsu wheeled in, but one could imagine just how powerful another was by simply taking note of another's reiatsu. And just like all of the shinigami before this foolish one, they met with their demise.

The trap was laid perfectly. All he had to do was wait for an innocent, little bug to tag along and make it a success. His job of annihilation would be counted as complete once he preyed on the last of the assigned number and he could return to his humble adobe, however humble it was. It wouldn't be very long, he figured. After all, what could one foolish shinigami hope to accomplish when standing against him? In the end, all the prey would wind up having their corpses lying by the sidelines, awaiting reincarnation. They were just so gullible, so cute. It had been extraordinarily thrilling to watch their eyes bolt out of their sockets at the mere sight of him and their faces contorted with pain and confusion - a mess, it might seem - as they writhe in agony and fall into a spiral of spasms before the life was taken out from their breaths. She was going to be no different at all.

He recognised this female shinigami from a past experience with her, but it was all in the past and nothing more. They never spoke, they never met, and thus she shall not last to see the light of tomorrow. He cared not for mere insects like her, mere insects which were worth nothing but death. Being merciful would only let the insects spawn and bring the overall threat up a notch, and he knew that the one in control of his life would not tolerate a mistake such as that. Why should he hesitate slaying a person whose name he knew and nothing more? She would only have herself to blame when reincarnation comes knocking on her door.

Pale, shivering hand on the hilt of his zanpakutou which shared the same shade as his eyes, the shadow watched and waited. The raven-haired female below stepped closer towards the core of his trap, but it was not close enough. However, he could wait no longer; shunpoing down the branches, he landed a few feet away from her, zanpakutou slowly being unsheathed. And as she fished out her phone without any acknowledgement to his presence whatsoever, still acting as if nothing was awry, he struck, and swung the blade down.


End file.
